Senate Dance: The Collapse
by Mr. Salt
Summary: Sequel to The Fall. Mace Windu has successfully killed all the Senators and Chancellor, taking control of the Republic government. Tensions are high on Coruscant, and a resistance forms to topple the Jedi regime in its infancy. Davros questions his loyalty to Windu. AU, the Sith actually are extinct.
1. Chapter 1

**('V')**

* * *

Courtney Ayshala locked her flat behind her, going through her normal routine. One of the billions of sentients that made up the ranks of the 'eco class', a sort of limbo between the lower and middle class, Courtney had stumbled into her residence late last night. As jobs went, depreciating equipment was a simple yet intricate task that forced her to work overtime more often than not. A trusty holoplayer filled with audiobooks and music was often Courtney's only company, especially when working in the lower levels, where signal was more fantasy than reality.

When Ms. Ayshala headed for her job this morning, she had no idea that the Jedi had taken control of the Republic after the bloody murders of all the Senators and the Chancellor himself.

Courtney got on the tram like she normally did, slipping on her headphones to block the hum of morning commuters, though she was annoyed to find she had to turn her player up several notches to find the solace she was looking for.

Coruscant Hub, the largest connecting station on the planet, sat 300 meters opposite the Jedi Temple. One building designed to inspire hope, spires reaching for new opportunities, the other the lowest bid, a building created by Senators who would never use it. Not even a Post-Modernist could find something beautiful about the Hub.

Courtney stepped off the tram into the bustling station. She tried to make her way to the next terminal, but the crowd was so thick she barely made it halfway across the station before watching the status of her tram switch from 'boarding' to 'in transit.'

Courtney briefly wondered if today was some holiday she had forgotten. Deciding today was just a quirk, she tried as best she could to be ready at the right terminal for the alternate tram. Courtney had already tuned out the crowd again to try to focus on calculations. Taking the second tram would make her thirty minutes late for work. Her boss would dock her the standard three hours of pay as Disciplinary Procedure. The loss of wages would mean the difference between real vegetables and Veggie-Paste, a goop the color of slugs that had to be vigorously boiled to avoid tasting how it looked.

Being jostled was practically a requirement of this station. Courtney had no idea something was amiss till she felt the sun on her face, something clearly out of place if she was still inside the windowless station. Courtney couldn't fight the push of the crowd, she would just have to wait until the group dispersed slightly to return to the station.

As the mob got closer to the Temple, the shouts became deafening, turning into a chant so loud she couldn't even understand what everyone was saying. As she got closer, the polished armor of the clones seemed to magically appear from the gleaming marble steps leading to the entrance of the Temple. A lone Jedi, too young for the silver-white hair on his head, stood in front of the clones, as much a statue as they were.

Flimsy yellow barricades marked how close the mob could get without the clones taking action, and for a moment, Courtney hoped she could escape back to the tram station. Even if it meant paste for a month, she preferred it to being stuck between a mob and the Clone army.

Someone pushed her.

Courtney stumbled forward a few dangerous steps, inside the zone marked by the flashing holo-barricade. A single loud clack pierced the mob's shouting, the sound of hundreds of clones bringing up their weapons in unison. The lone Jedi stepped forward, saying something to her, but Courtney couldn't hear. The crowd was so tightly packed, she didn't have a chance to turn off her player. Hands shaking, she reached into her coat pocket to turn off the hand shaped device.

* * *

Davros could hardly think. The sheer hate spewing off the mob was flooding his senses. He had hoped the crowd might stay civil, but then a human girl stumbled across the line, surely by accident. Davros stepped down, and to his credit, calmly asked her to get back behind the barricade. Sure, the protest was getting rowdy, but Coruscant had some of the strictest gun laws in the galaxy, anything less than a blaster could easily be handled by a veteran Jedi and clone army.

"Gun!" Davros heard from one of the clones, he didn't know which. The only clear thing was that his clones, men who had been on the front lines until assigned here, clearly thought this woman was pulling out a gun.

The world was in slow motion, Davros regretted putting off the concealed weapons training. He thought he didn't need it for Coruscant. There was no way to use the Force to help here, the shear emotion thrown off by the crowd masked the individual feelings of each being. The only choice Davros had was to trust his clones or ignore them.

In one smooth motion, Davros ignited his saber and sliced the woman in half. For two glorious moments, the crowd was silent.

"He killed her!" A voice called out from the mob.

Davros was focused on the corpse in front of him. He didn't notice when the mob started throwing rocks, or firing illegal homemade weapons. He didn't hear a terrified clone calling in support. He didn't see two clones fall to lucky shots he should have blocked. He didn't even notice as the clones returned fire, charging into the mass of bodies.

All Davros could see was the young woman he had cut down. Reaching into her pocket, Davros pulled out the black object, a small music player, completely harmless. Even when the 'battle' was over, Davros couldn't bring himself to care about the few clone casualties, one who would never walk again, or the several hundred dead civilians, being cleaned off the steps by mindless droids. Davros had killed a woman in cold blood, and that changed everything.


	2. Chapter 2

There is a point in any man's life where he feels he has finally achieved his goals. That point may be a steady job, or a wife, or even children. When a man reaches that point, he can finally relax and enjoy life. For Mace Windu, that point had finally come.

It was almost as if he had a list with life goals on it. After Davros took care of Shaak Ti for him, the last resistance to his control had been removed from the council. While Yoda was still sitting on the council, his mind was so addled Mace could easily suggest that Yoda vote for whatever Mace wished. Every other seat was held by someone too incompetent or too scared to betray him. Eventually, Mace would need to find actual competent people to fill the council, but he had to make sure they were in line with the concept that the Republic was too stupid to take care of itself, and the Jedi needed to more strongly interfere with Republic government.

This wasn't a great controversy, most Jedi believed the Republic to not be capable, but those feelings ranged from simple dislike to the strong belief in Jedi superiority Mace wanted on his council. One strong candidate was Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, a young but already successful Jedi. In the old Order, the loss of a Padawan would be a mark against Kenobi for the rest of his days, but from what Mace could discern from the reports, Kenobi had actually approached his Padawan voluntarily about the direction the Order was going in. That was the sort of ambition Mace wanted, he sent a note to his secretary to have the Council promote Kenobi to Master immediately, and then schedule a meeting between himself and Kenobi. Obi-Wan had ties to Shaak Ti, that was a something Mace needed to be sure wouldn't be an issue.

The next item on Mace's list was the government. All the Senators present had died to either saber or clone rifle, but there were a few Senators who weren't present, possibly because they knew what was about to happen. The only one Mace truly worried about was Naboo Senator Padme Amidala, former queen of Naboo and key person in the Trade Federation conflict only a few years prior. She had all the makings of a rebel leader, strong public support, experience in occupied warfare, and a keen political mind matched with the agility needed to command troops on the ground. Unfortunately, Windu didn't have the resources to conduct a proper search for the missing senators. Right now, every capable Jedi Knight was being sent to each planet in the Republic along with a battalion of clones to ensure a peaceful transition, while Jedi Masters and clone legions were being sent to subjugate Separatist worlds. Mace wasn't sure if he wanted to task a few Padawans to start the search. Even if they were capable, he worried that if the missing senators really were planning dissent, then they might be capable of swaying Padawans to their side. Mace needed all the Padawans he could get, the Clone War wasn't exactly a shining success of Jedi ability, the amount of Jedi slain in the relatively short conflict was greater than all Jedi slain in his millennia.

But that was enough musing on the government, Mace turned his thoughts to the next item on his list, his herald and blade, Davros. In all of known history, there were perhaps five Jedi including Davros who were so incredibly loyal to the head of the Council they willingly killed their fellow Jedi. Davros was the key, the one Mace would put on the field to deal with any Jedi who switched sides. For now, Davros was stationed guarding the entrance to the Temple. Any idiot could do that with a clone army backing him, even the simplest Padawan, but Mace wanted Davros close to him for now, and stationing Davros at the Temple meant Jedi wouldn't ask questions when Davros wasn't assigned to a planet like every other capable Jedi.

The reason for keeping Davros close was the last item on Mace's list, the terminal illness currently turning his brain to mush. That was the danger of all Force illnesses, they were completely incurable. While the severity wasn't always sure, the afflicted had to live with the side effects for the rest of their life. While technically the Force Madness wouldn't kill Mace, it would make him wish he was dead, as he slowly lost control of his body. In the back of his mind, Mace knew the answer to his problem. All he had to do was transfer his consciousness to another body. The Kaminoans had some success in the area, even managing to transfer a mind across sexes or races. Unfortunately, even if the host body was force sensitive, once a mind was in the host body, the connection to the Force was severed.

The choice wasn't easy. Mace could use his remaining time to cement his empire, or he would have to trust that his council and minions would obey him even without control of the Force. If he waited too long, a raving lunatic would be transferred to the new body, rather than the mind of Mace Windu.

Mace was pondering all this when his aide knocked softly on the door.

"Master Windu, there's been a situation at the front entrance, Davros is in the medbay, being treated for shock."

"Ensure the gate is secure, I'll see to Davros."

Mace was surprised. The stoic Guard was in shock? Killing his own apprentice didn't faze him, but some rabble did? In the grand scheme, Mace had a hundred Jedi who could keep the gate, but he was curious as to why Davros was so rattled.

Mace was quiet and respectful when he entered the medbay. Healers cared for nothing but their patients. Whether you were a Padawan or Grandmaster, you waited quietly when you came to the medbay.

The woman at the counter finally noticed him. "Greetings, Master Jedi, do you have an appointment?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not, my friend was brought in and I came as soon as I heard," Mace replied.

"I see, and what is the name of your colleague?"

"Davros."

"Last name or first?"

"Actually, I have no idea. For as long as I've known him, he just goes by Davros."

"Interesting, could it be cultural?"

"He's human, born on Coruscant."

"Curious. Davros is in Room B-212, you may visit him, the Healers say he is stable."

"Thank you," Mace said, heading for the lifts.

Mace would have to check the records more thoroughly when he got back to his office. The assistant was right, it was curious for a Coruscant-born human to not have a last name.

Normally he would just ask Davros directly, but time was short and he needed to find out what put the Guard in shock. Today was a busy day, and Mace didn't have time to pry into someone's history. There was a galaxy that needed to be run.

The door to Davros' room slid open silently, perfectly balanced. In the center of the room a simple bed held Davros, in a medical tunic. Without the imposing armor and helmet, Davros looked barely older than a teenager.

Davros opened his eyes when Mace entered the room. "Master Windu."

"Davros," Mace said. "Are you ok?"

"I think so, I don't remember blacking out or fighting the clones. Oh! Are my clones alright?"

Mace could see how much Davros cared for his troops. That was a leadership quality many Jedi didn't have. "Your troops are fine, minor injuries from the mob, but you did no lasting damage to any of them."

Relief eased the tension from Davros' face. "I'm glad they're alright, they didn't deserve that fight with the mob."

"You know it's their job to fight?"

"I mean, that fight shouldn't have happened."

"You can't always quiet the crowd, my friend, not even a Jedi can stop ever fight."

"I started the fight."

That didn't seem like Davros at all. "You started it, how?" Mace asked.

"I… I thought I saw a weapon being pulled."

"So you stopped the threat before it started, nothing wrong with that."

"No, I was wrong. The woman didn't have a gun. She was reaching in her pocket to pull out a music player."

Mace had finally pulled out the root of the problem. This was what had Davros in shock. This was the first time the young man had taken a life without cause, at least in his eyes. Mace had to figure out how to tell him that he followed his training and it wasn't his fault.

"This is your fault," Mace said. He waited for Davros to understand his words and then to try to stand up for himself. "No, let me finish. It is your fault you followed your training. It is your fault you listened to the experienced voices of your clones, who only had your safety in mind. It is your fault that you acted without hesitation, and most of all, it is your fault that the Temple is safe."

Mace waited a moment for it to sink in. "Listen, no one could have ascertained whether it was a weapon or not before it was pulled. You made a justified decision, and followed orders. Her death isn't on your hands."

"But I-"

"No buts, my friend, you can't talk your way out of this one. Any more protesting and I'll see to it you have a public ceremony where you receive a medal for today's events."

"You're a special kind of evil, sir."

Mace laughed. "Don't forget it. Take off the rest of the day, and come by my office tomorrow, we have work to do."

"Yes, master."

* * *

Alderaan's capital city, New Gainesville, was in the middle of the planet's winter. After the public shuttle dropped him off, Anakin wished he had brought heavier clothing. He had no contacts on Alderaan, no one to provide him resources or supplies. The only thing Anakin had to go on was his Force vision of Count Dooku.

Confident the Force wouldn't lead him astray, Anakin made his way to the tram system. Reaching out with the Force, Anakin let his hand glide over the simple kiosk, until it descended on a small performing arts center on the outskirts of the city.

Anakin had taken measure to make sure no one recognized him, hiding his lightsaber within the simple worker's coveralls that were common in the agriculture-focused city. His hair was a flaming red, and styled to cover the scar over his eye.

No one was surprised when a worker with red hair entered the tram for the outskirts of the city. Anakin was thankful the disguise worked, since the Jedi weren't exactly in the best light right now. On Coruscant it was clear the Temple ruled with an iron fist, with the newscasters blatantly controlled in what they put out.

Small holoblogs and such told a different story, detailing the horrors the Jedi had committed, culminating in a terrible slaughter on the front steps of the Temple. Anakin didn't know how the Council had gotten to Obi-Wan, but he was sure they had manipulated him somehow. Anakin had known from the day they last saw each other. He had hoped that leaving would make Obi-Wan snap out of it, make him reach out and stop his former Padawan.

But Obi-Wan called his bluff, letting him leave without any trouble. Anakin knew he had no friends left in the Order. He would have to find allies in his fight against Dooku, but where? Why would the Force guide him to what was probably just some teacher trying to get her students to appreciate the arts in a barely used center?

When Anakin reached the performing arts center, he wasn't even sure if the place was open. All the lights were out, and the building itself had to be at least fifty years older than the surrounding area. He wouldn't have been surprised if there used to be a 'condemned' sign on the door until some kid removed it.

As soon as Anakin entered, he ignited his saber.

"Calm yourself, Anakin. I assure you, we are friends," Count Dooku said, standing unaffected while the people around him jumped back at the sight of a Jedi.

"What is this Dooku? Why are you here?" Anakin demanded.

"The same reason you are, boy, to stop the Jedi Order from dominating the galaxy."

A figured clothed in shimmering white stepped forward, Anakin extinguished his saber in shock. "Please Master Skywalker," Padme said. "Hear Dooku out, together, our cause can save the galaxy."

Padme was the Senator Anakin ever trusted. "I'm listening," He said.

* * *

 **A/N: Padme and Anakin only know each other professionally at this point, they aren't married.**


End file.
